The Little I Know
by BlackReaver
Summary: It was never meant to be like this. A child was meant to be welcomed into the world by ridiculously festive celebration. Not this...silence. One shot. AU. Slash. Mpreg.


**Just letting you know that this story includes male pregnancy. Gasp. Yes, I know. Its awful. Shocking. Freakishly unnatural. Totally unrealistic. Not at all like _realistic_ things such magic wands and hippogriffs and resurrection stones. If you don't like that sort of thing. Use the back button. And please, don't review just to say you don't like mpreg. Because I really couldn't care less. **

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**The Little I Know **

It was _never_ meant to be like this.

That much she knew, and as the Head Matron of the Maternity Ward of St Mungo's, she knew quite an awful lot on the matter.

The arrival of a new life into the world ought to be filled with joy and celebration and balloons and streamers and lots of overjoyed families sharing tears of happiness. There ought to be last minute bets being placed as to whether it is a boy or a girl. Whether or not they will take after the mother or the father. At what age their first act of accidental magic will occur.

The Matron was of the personal opinion that being born was every child's first act of magic, that the magic must just die in the muggles, whereas it kept growing in the wizarding children, though she kept that opinion quiet around the families that passed through her waiting room.

However _this_ night was different.

There was no celebration, no bets being placed. No streamers or excited chatter of the expecting families. Instead there was silence. She _knew_ why. She was fully aware of the unusual situation - how could she not - she ran this place, after all; nothing got past her keen ears.

But the silence was something she did not like in her waiting room. It was the very antithesis of the Delivery ward.

And she was tired.

She had been working for twenty-three hours _straight_.

Well, that may have been an exaggeration, her shift had finished well over seven hours ago, but she had _lingered_. She had business still.

She had responsibilities here.

Filling out paperwork, cleaning out her office, sourcing cups of tea or strong coffees for the Healers on shift, eyeing wayward children as their parents fawned over their newest siblings, reading yesterdays _Prophet_, sending out invitations for her great-aunts one hundred and seventh birthday, watching the young man in the waiting room.

Hmm. The young man.

Looking down at her file her eyes briefly flickered over the name of _Sirius Orion Black_. The name was no news to her. She had read that name more times that she cared to count in the past twenty-three hours. She supposed that was when this all started. The silence.

It had begun with their arrival.

Even through the first of the many, many contractions there had only been silence. Fear. _Secrecy_. Pain.

After sixteen hours the Healer had given her _the_ look, and she had ushered Black out of the delivery ward. His presence was more of a hinderance than a help by then.

She eyed the man thoughtfully.

He was very young still, no more than twenty.

He was _very_ handsome.

Raven black hair that fell over stony grey eyes, which were currently staring out of the rain-beaten windows. He had the facial structure that one would expect from a man of his birth; sharp, regal, with an irrevocably haughty air about his every breath. He looked as though he had seen better days though. He was wearing muggle clothing; a leather jacket, a black tee-shirt, with the word _Anarchy_ printed across the chest in bold red letters, and tatty jeans with holes at the knees, tucked into muddy boots. He was littered with cuts and bruises, some had faded for the most part, others looked only days old. Some had not yet healed, yet she could one account for one cut that had happened under her watchful eye. He had a split lip, which was still bleeding freely. It had happened less than an hour ago.

Another young man, with ridiculously messy black hair and glasses, dressed in clothes just as dirty as Black had stormed into the waiting room and confronted him. They had argued for a good while, not shouting, not until the very end, at which point it had ended in a rather messy scuffle on the floor of the waiting room. The matron was relieved that they had not bothered to use their wands, instead opting for their fists. It may have wreaked havoc on her usually clean and orderly room, but it was much _easier_ to heal bruised knuckles and split lips than it was to reverse the adverse affects of curses and jinxes.

She had tried to ignore what they had shouted at one another, tried to distance herself from their situation, but their words had penetrated her barriers, and now they circulated around her consciousness unwilling to let her be.

_You bastard._

_ You could have gotten us killed!_

_ What would you have done? _

_ What?_

_ If it had been Lily, what would you have done?_

_ I wouldn't have just _left_._

_ Bullshit._

And then came the split lip. The young man punched Black in the face, and Black punched him back, if it had been as hard a punch as she thought it was, the young man would certainly wake up with a very tender black eye in the morning. The man had staggered, toppled over a chair, and then fled the room, shouting 'I don't _believe_ you.'

The Matron had gone to Black and offered to fix his lip for him. She had no idea whether he was truly at fault, but it wasn't not her place to decide who deserves treatment and those who do not. Her only aim was to make people better than when they had first met her. Though she failed to see how she could do this for Black.

He had denied her offer of treatment, murmuring some excuse about not wanting to risk not being there, when _it_ happened, but thanked her quietly all the same.

She had nodded and gone silently back to the reception desk, relieved to know, regardless of whatever situation he was caught up in, he would be there for the child.

That was important especially in times as uncertain as these. Especially due to the nature of this child's entrance into the world, they would need all the love and protection they could get.

She sat back down at the desk, where she resolved to keep vigil over him, for she had never seen anyone so broken and so stoic at the same moment.

They had remained there, in the waiting room, Black and the matron, for another hour before something happened.

It was the click-clack of high heeled shoes, storming down the corridor leading into the waiting room. The Matron looked up and was met with a beautiful young woman with dark red hair, bright green eyes and a swollen belly. She did not even glance at the woman seated at the desk, instead strode straight over to Black and thrown herself on him.

"Oh Padfoot," the girl said, "I'm so sorry he is such an irresponsible tit." The Matron, who could only assume the girl was talking about the man with the messy hair, agreed heartily. "_Honestly_."

"Lily," Black had called out in surprise as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think, silly?" the girl, Lily, said as she tapped Black on the forehead, a tender smile gracing her features. "I want to be here when _my_ Godchild finally makes an appearance."

Black stares blankly at her, "_Your_ Godchild?"

"Of course," she said, as if it the most obvious thing in the world, hopping off his lap and settling in the seat beside him, her hand holding his tightly. "Who else would be qualified enough to be responsible for one of your little monsters?"

Black looked at her sharply and Lily gasped, as though she had said something terrible.

"Oh, Sirius," Lily said quietly, her voice sounding thick with emotion. "I didn't think, I'm so sorry. I ... do you know, yet?"

Black shook his head. "No, we don't," he says gruffly, picking at the frayed seam of his shirt. "Not until the baby's born."

The matron knew what they were talking about. She hoped to Merlin that this baby would be healthy. That the tests would provide a negative result. That this child would be given a chance to live a life that every other baby that had begun life in her ward deserved.

"Everything will be okay, I just know it." Lily murmured quietly, as she strokes Black's arm reassuringly. The Matron wonders if the girl truly believes it or if she if just trying to reassure her obviously concerned friend. Who wouldn't be concerned in that situation?

Black said nothing, instead he returned to his previous occupation of staring out of the window and into the rain pouring from the heavens in the pitch black night. The weather seemed somehow appropriate.

Lily remained faithfully by his side, leaving only once. She struggled up from her seated position, placed a kiss in Black's forehead and wandered over to the Matron to ask where the loo was.

The matron had given her a kind smile and told her it was just down the hall to the left. Lily had thanked her and paddled off to the bathroom.

In Lily's absence, Black hunched forward on his seat, his elbows on his knees and his head cradled in his arms.

He was having a _moment_.

The matron knew all about those, she had witnesses more than she could possibly count. It was that point where it finally hits a soon-to-be father that whatever is happening behind those doors is _really_ _happening_.

Whatever the outcome of the birth, whether it be a healthy baby or a stillborn or a sickly baby, they had played a role in bringing a new life into the world. And, to be blunt, it scared them shitless.

Some men appreciated kind and reassuring words, and she would readily offer her services to anyone in Black's position, though there was something in the way that he held himself that made the Matron feel as though she could not help him.

Her kind words would mean nothing to him, they would only serve to enrage him.

Thankfully Lily returned swiftly and Black seemed to snap out of it.

"Are you alright?" He asked her as she sat back down beside him.

"I'm so sick of having to pee every bloody five minutes. You've got it lucky Black," Lily grumbled, her delicate hand gliding across her belly.

"I might not have to pee every five minutes, but I've spent the last nine months sharing a bed with someone who does." Sirius said indignantly. "I haven't gotten a full nights sleep in _six_ months. And its not like either of you have to get up and go to work in the mornings."

"No. We have it _so_ easy," Lily replied, laying the sarcasm on quite heavily. "Just pop out a kid like its all fun and games."

That sobered the black haired man instantly. "I know. I _know_." His voice cracked ever so slightly, and Lily pulled him into an embrace.

"I know you do. I know you do, love." She said to him, tenderly stroking his hair and he held unto her like she was the last thing on earth.

Another hour passed.

And then another.

And then the Healer swept through the doors of the delivery ward. He looked pale and altogether exhausted, and the Matron shuddered to think what the mother looked like.

He nodded to her and then addressed Black, who had jumped up of his seat as soon as the doors opened. "Mr Black, congratulations. You have a son."

"A-a son?" Black asked, a grin breaking over his face, and the Matron thinks that he is quite possibly the happiest father she had ever seen in twenty-three years of this profession.

"Oh, Sirius!" Lily cried, as she hugged the man tightly. "You've got a little boy! Oh, I've a Godson!"

"I have a son!" Black shouted out and let out a bark of laughter as he twirled Lily around the waiting room, both chanting "It's a boy. It's a boy!"

The Matron was entranced by the sheer happiness that simply radiated off of the very same man that had sat in her waiting room for the last eleven hours as though awaiting a death sentence.

Black eventually let go of Lily who had tears of joy streaming down her face and he shook the amused Healer's hand. "Thank you. Thank you so much." He paused, than quietly added, "Is the baby safe?"

"He is perfectly healthy."

Black smiled again, though this time one of pure relief. "How is he?"

The Healer smiled knowingly. "Remarkably bright, after such an ordeal." The Matron can see the weight of the world lift off of Black's shoulders. "He has asked to see you. I believe he has someone very special he want's to show you."

"Okay," the young man agreed, nodding eagerly.

Lily takes hold of his hand and squeezed it tightly. "I'll be waiting right out here."

"What are you talking about?" Black asked. "Your coming too. He _is_ your Godson, after all," Black said, leading Lily, who was grinning widely, to follow behind the Healer.

The Matron was overcome by curiosity. She never liked getting too attached to anyone that passed through her waiting room.

But this _family_ was the exception.

She slipped out from behind her desk and followed through the doors of the ward. What she saw made her heart swell with awe and wonder.

At the far end of the room was a single occupied bed.

Lying on the bed was a young _man_, well, his record had him registered as a _werewolf_, yet all the Matron saw was a person (albeit a magical medical mystery) with light brown hair plastered to his forehead. He had a very pale complexion, but his cheeks were flushed rose red from the labour. His brown eyes were focused on the small bundle wrapped in a white blanket in his skinny arms.

Above him was Sirius Black, a man in possession of an expression of awe and such intense love in his eye as he looked at his son and at the man, that it made the Matron feel weak at the knees. Lily was beside him, just gazing at the baby.

"He's so beautiful," she heard Sirius say. "He's perfect, Remus."

"I know," Remus replied contentedly, resting his head back on the pillow.

Gazing down at her watch, the Matron realised he had been in labour for over a whole day. The poor thing.

"He's perfect," Sirius repeated, leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on the other man's lips.

"He's got your hair," Remus said looking back down at their newborn child. The Matron was dying to see what the child looking like. She was certain he really was every bit as beautiful as his father thought.

"Lets hope that's all he got from me," Sirius said, giving Remus a cheeky grin. He looked dizzy with happiness.

"Yes. God forbid I have to chase after _two_ Sirius Black's," Remus said, and Lily agreed.

"I'm just praying that I don't end up with another prick like my husband."

"What's happened?" Remus asked.

"Nothing, love," Sirius said quietly, whilst sharing a worried look with Lily. Remus seemed oblivious. Maybe he was just too tired to care.

"Would you like to hold him?"

Sirius looked at him nervously, "Y-yeah."

The Matron watched as Remus passed the baby over to Sirius, who cradled their son in his strong arms. The baby wriggled in the blankets.

"Hey, kiddo. I'm your dad," Sirius said as though he couldn't quite believe it. Remus just watched on with the ghost of a blissful smile on his face. Lily peered over the baby and cooed softly to him.

Then the sound of hurried footsteps came thundering behind the Matron and she turned around to see the messy haired young man from before, only this time, he was carrying a handful of balloons tied on strings and a stuffed hippogriff tucked under his arm. She let him pass through and watched as he walked over to the rest of his family at the end of the ward.

"James! What are you doing here?" Lily exclaimed.

"Well, since I'm Godfather, I have to be here." The man, _James_, said.

"I'm sorry, but I can't actually remember asking _either_ of you to be godparents," Sirius said, acknowledging James for the first time.

"You didn't need to, love," Lily said, again as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

James walked over to Lily, and placed a kiss on her cheek. He then walked over the Sirius and embraced the man like a brother and congratulated Remus on popping out the first of the "mini-marauder's," whatever that meant.

"What are you going to call him?" James asked, the stuffed hippogriff still tucked under his arm.

Sirius looked to Remus, who nodded, and then looked to James. "Theodore Remus Black. Teddy, for short."

James looked down at the bundle in Sirius' arms and said, "Welcome to the world, Teddy Black."

The Matron felt like it was her time to leave them.

She had intruded long enough.

As she walked out of the ward and back to her office to collect her coat and turn off the lights she realised that maybe that child had not been welcomed into the world like she thought it ought to, how she imagined every child should, but in the end, it was meant to be _exactly_ just like this.

And it was perfect.

Just as it was.

Werewolves and split lips and all.

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Just a little piece that popped into my head and demanded to be written. Hope you've enjoyed it. Black Reaver xox


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